


Event Horizon

by DreamingAmethystDragons



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Canon-Typical Violence, Ensemble Cast, F/F, Humor, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 12:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19927831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingAmethystDragons/pseuds/DreamingAmethystDragons
Summary: It's suggested only as a game, something to take the mind off the fear looming in the pit of the stomach and dragging down the joints.  Honestly, given the severity of their situation, it's a rather stupid idea.  It'd be dumb even if they weren't L'Cie running for their lives."It's simple," she says, with a smile as wicked as it is delighted.  "Whoever takes down the most enemies, wins."





	Event Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> listen, FFXIII is a tonally darker game, but given that all but one of the six party members are teenagers or in their early twenties, I refuse to believe that shenanigans never happened

It's suggested only as a game, something to take the mind off the fear looming in the pit of the stomach and dragging down the joints. Honestly, given the severity of their situation, it's a rather stupid idea. It'd be dumb even if they weren't L'Cie running for their lives. 

"It's simple," she says, this lanky Pulsian warrior with a smile as wicked as it is delighted and a spear near as swift as Lightning's gunblade. "Whoever takes down the most enemies, wins."

"What's in it for the winner?" Lightning asks dubiously, pulling back from her post at the corner, watching two more Corps soldiers stride their way.

The woman - Fang, she'd said? - only barks a short, breathless laugh and replies, "Winner chooses."

It is, truthfully, a _terrible_ idea.

"C'mon," Fang says, "Leap of faith."

"You're on," Lightning says right before she unlocks her gunblade and bounds around the corner.

\---

Later, bunkered down in the house of Hope's beleaguered father, Fang nudges Lightning. Lightning doesn't even look at her and only grants a raised eyebrow, hands busy oiling the delicate machinery of her blade. There's certainly far more fighting to come, and she doesn't want the mechanisms locking into place mid-battle due to lack of maintenance. That'd be carelessness, really, not to take advantage of a quiet moment. She flips her cloth over as Fang makes herself comfy, propping long legs over the table and maneuvering carefully around the assorted baggage from their rag-tag... whatever they are. Snow, near passed out in the armchair over in the corner, rolls his head around to watch them.

"So, how many did you get?"

Lightning pauses, checks the tightness of one of the screws that allows for the unfolding of the blade. Her face _decidedly_ stays very steady. "Twenty-eight, I believe." 

Fang makes a strange noise, halfway between a cluck and a whistle. "Whew, not too bad for a spoiled Viper."

Lightning finally makes eye contact, and - there it is, that satisfied smirk. "You?"

"A solid thirty." Fang mimes raising a glass in a toast, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Guess lady luck wasn't on your side today, eh?"

_Damn_. Light was sure they'd at least tied. 

"Rules are rules," Fang says, leaning into Lightning's space. Had it not been a long day, Light tells herself, she'd knock Fang one in the face. "You gonna pay up?"

"Depends," she replies, ignoring Snow's muffled cough. "What do you want?"

Fang only hums for a few long seconds, during which Light slowly folds up her gunblade and starts gathering together her tools on the tabletop. She's just wrapping up a vial of oil in its terrycloth when Fang finally says, "Next time we're at one of the moogle shops, buy me two elixirs and I'll call it even."

_Of course_ she couldn't choose a cheaper potion. Lightning's already tallying the price in her head. The next soldiers they meet better have their wallets on them. "Fine. I can do that." She gets up, intending on making her retreat (and slyly flipping Snow off on her way).

Fang only laughs behind her. "I'll be sure to remind you, Sunshine."

\---

Somehow, it seems as though it might become a regular thing, this game of theirs. 

Lightning kicks her foot out, looking over the rim of her sunglasses (recently stolen from an unconscious PSICOM guard out of spite). En route to the _Palamecia_ , she should be feeling a lot more tense. With the open sky laid out before them, nonetheless, she instead feels a strange sort of weightlessness - eons away from the problems that await them down on the surface. In the corner of her eye, she can see the flickering of a PSICOM newscast on the telescreen, a stony-faced young man gesturing behind him. Talking about the latest destruction, no doubt, and conveniently leaving out the damage wrought by the ones purported to do the protecting. She snorts and crosses her ankles, leaning her head back into the bright sunlight. 

"Well, you look comfy. Nice glasses."

Lightning cracks her eyes open, and yep, there' s Fang, grinning that toothy, crooked smile as she leans into Light's space. For a moment, a thrill winds its way up Light's spine - she barely marked Fang getting close, and the fluid way the huntress tilts her head reminds her of a predator considering its territory - but she simply leans her head back farther. No unease, no hesitation. "Well, I found them laying around, and it'd be a shame to let them sit. They might get broken that way. Or stolen."

"Laying around, huh? Better not leave my wallet be, then." With seeming good grace, Fang slumps into the chair across from Lightning, swinging her legs across the armrest and raking a hand through her hair. Lightning considers her. She can hear Snow, vaguely; he sounds like he's somewhere down the hall, getting ramped up with the rest of the idiots. As for Hope, well, she hasn't seen him since they boarded, which either means he's with Snow or he's holed up on his own, taking a break before hell breaks loose again. 

Well. That was what _she_ was doing, after all. Light closes her eyes again. 

"So, when we hit the ship." Light jerks her chin to show that she's listening, and Fang continues. "Like last time? Whoever takes down the most soldiers? Or is it an anything-goes game?"

Lightning licks her lips, thinking about the kinds of enemies most likely to be onboard. As a Guardian Corps member, she only had a peripheral understanding of the separate rank system and enemy classifications of PSICOM. Basic training was pretty much the same, and new initiates often got lumped together into the beginner classes, but after that the two stay pretty separate. More's the pity. She wishes she knew more, but on the other hand, there'd been a kind of elitism among PSICOM that she hadn't cared to touch.

Looking at the way things were now, perhaps that's just as well. 

"I think we can discount anything that's not organically-based," she says finally. "After all, since this is one of the more advanced types of ships - it's probably in a class all of its own, but I don't know enough about airships to say - but it probably has internal mechanized defenses, but those are -" she shrugs and waves a hand. "Shouldn't be a problem. They'll be plenty of domesticated peacekeepers and soldiers on board, anyway. And if we get forced on the outer decks and you fall," she adds, wry, "I'm not jumping after you."

Fang only chuckles, a low, throaty thing. When Light cracks her eyes back open, the woman is watching the window, fingers tapping against the armrest. "It's not," she starts, then snorts. "Cocoon."

"Hm?"

"I don't know what I thought I'd stumble across on this hellworld," Fang amends. "Now, there's vipers, all right, and right where I expected too, but there's also... I dunno."

_Hellworld_. Hadn't Lightning herself called Pulse that during the Purge? The cultural parallels run deep. 

With a sigh, Fang leans her head back, mimicking Lightning's posture. "I was in Bodhum too, you know. Right before everything went to shit."

Lightning nearly bites her tongue off, whipping her head around as she does. For a long moment, she doesn't know if she wants to shout at Fang, or for her. At the sight of Fang's face, stoic and blank, she stays quiet instead, tucking all the comments that line up on the tip of her tongue away.

"I didn't see us fighting at the sides of any vipers. But," and then her eyes flash Light's way, "At least some of them aren't too bad."

It's the closest to a concession that Fang's probably ever going to give, given the circumstances. Lightning looks at her for a long moment. Then she stretches out, gently kicking Fang's seat. "I'm not going to give you a handicap just because you're a big sap, you know."

Fang laughs, loud and hearty, and they both leave it at that. 

\---

After Bahaumut is contained and defeated, they all gear up again. 

Fang slaps Lightning's shoulder as she passes. Considering the way Fang had looked up at her not fifteen minutes prior when Lightning had extended a hand to pull her back onto her feet, she bounces back quick. That, or the fluid power that blossoms under the skin when an eidolon first accepts its master is still playing wingman to all of the adrenaline of the fight. She remembers full well when Odin had accepted her - she'd felt like she could have flown all the way to Palumpolum. Literally and figuratively.

The cross over the bridge in messy single-file. The shining blue light holding them up is unlike any other magic Lightning has ever seen, but she supposes that as long as they're quick there would be nothing to worry about. (Although - if it gave out halfway, would that be proof that eidolons were only the result of something's shitty sense of humor?) Somehow she gets pushed up to the front, and Vanille spins around and offers her a sunny smile. "You doing alright, Lightning?"

"Well enough." That's the most honest answer she can give, anyway, but it seems to satisfy whatever Vanille's looking for. She nods, curls bouncing along her back. 

When her feet finally touch solid ground, Light turns to look for the rest of the pack. Somehow they'd fallen behind, and Fang most definitely has Hope in some kind of headlock, which makes her almost afraid that one (or both) are going to go tumbling down. Frowning, she's about to call out to them when a hand catches hers - and she looks back, alarmed. 

But it's only Vanille, smile smaller but somehow more serious. "Thank you, Lightning."

At Light's wordless question, she squeezes and lets go. "For looking out for Fang."

"Oh," Lightning says. Master of eloquence, that's her. "It's no problem. She's more than capable of taking care of herself, anyway."

"But it's hard to be alone. And she doesn't seem alone around you. I see you two, you know!" Vanille waggles her finger, and Lightning suddenly feels like she's missing part of the conversation. 

"Can you really be happy on the run for your lives?" she asks, dry. Vanille shrugs, seemingly unperturbed. 

"We've only got so much time," she says, low, and Light sees a flicker of tiredness cross Vanille's face. "We gotta live as we can, and that means knowing the good things we've got. So keep it up!" And with that, she goes bouncing off as Sazh finally reaches the end of the bridge, waving him forward. 

She stands and watches them go until Fang strides by. 

"I think that counts as my win, by the way!"

Lightning sighs. 

\---

By the time they hit Gran Pulse, their games only ramp up.

That had been sporadic, back on Cocoon, but by unspoken agreement they'd only challenged each other when they were fighting together. Now, with the whole of the Pulsian wilderness at their fingertips, they've got... well, not all the time in the world, but more freedom, at least - and that manifests in more and more challenges. They're not all about the number of enemies downed by their blades, not anymore. Now it's other things. A sparring match around the fire. Climbing the rocky faces that scatter the plains. Outracing each other on chocobos. Who can gather the most gorgonopsid claws. Who can punch an adamantoise in the face and live to tell the tale. 

Early on, when most things are far stronger than they are, they stick together, venturing out in groups of three or four. However, if there is one thing that this merry band of L'Cie have proven so far, it's that they're getting strong quickly. Some of the local predator packs even start leaving them alone. Accordingly, they start moving in groups of two, figuring that the more they can branch out, the more likely they are to find something, _anything_ , that might help. 

So it is that Light finds herself in Fang's company more and more.

They're pretty even, these days, in their wins. Light's got the speed, and Fang's got the brawn, to be sure, but they both egg each other on to greater recklessness. Somehow, irritatingly, the nickname "Sunshine" has stopped getting on her nerves. She's come to be used to Fang's presence at her back, her warmth by the fire, her easy laughter. She knows too well the look right before she's about to start _instigating_ , the taste of victory sweet on her tongue. 

In short, Lightning gets pretty complacent.

\---

They've just decided that night that it's time to move on through the tunnels. The centurions that had fucked up even Snow were now no more than mere scraps of junk and rust in the face of a few well-placed _Thundagas_ , so they all agree that on the morrow they'll permanently pack up camp and start heading towards Taijin tower and, hopefully, according to Vanille, to Oerba. Fang especially had seemed to relish the idea of finally going home, and none of them could begrudge _that_ , but. Really, it wasn't too hard of a decision. But a good night's sleep, they'd all agreed, was in order. 

Lightning's dreaming. She knows this, somehow. Her feet are rooted into place on a bridge over a misty river, but somehow she's able to peer past the guardrail and down into the murky water. And she sees - 

Serah. Crystal, shattering.

Hope's father, caught with his son in their burning home., surrounded by soldiers. 

Snow, skewered with a pillar of ice on Lake Bresha, a crystal teardrop broken beneath his hands. 

Sazh, unmoving and almost unrecognizable in the debris of his airship.

Fang - 

_No,_ she whispers, then shouts: _NO!_

And she jolts up just as a stick snaps in the fire behind her.

Light stays motionless, chest heaving. The ground is cold and unforgiving underneath her. She falls back on the simple exercise she'd been taught in the corps for panic and dangerous combat situations, where silence is prioritized about all else. Breathe. Inhale, exhale, one, two three. Her skin is streaked with sweat that feels more like frost in the cold air. Breathe. Inhale, exhale...

And, at her back, Fang whispers, "You a'ight, Sunshine?"

Light whips around, bracing herself, but - no, there's no enemy, just the slumbering forms of her crew and Fang, propping herself up on one elbow. She avoid's her companion's gaze, not sure what she'd see, not sure that she's ready for whatever she _might_ see. Her throat is awfully dry, and she gropes for a nearby canteen. Takes a shaky sip. Fang's still watching.

And again, just as gently, she asks, "Sunshine?"

She's... never heard Fang's voice go so soft, so steady. Not even for Vanille. Lightning wipes her mouth on the back of her hand. The only things she can hear is the steady crackle of the dying fire, the murmur of the wind slipping through the trees. The skies above are clear and limitless, starry like she'd never seen on Cocoon.

She wonders what Serah would have thought of this night sky.

"It's... nothing," she says, and her voice sounds distant to her own ears. Not too shaky, though. "Just a dream."

"More like a nightmare," Fang says, pragmatic, and Lightning drops her eyes, lifting her shoulder in a half-shrug. What's the point in denying that? They all are plagued by night terrors these days. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No." She can't voice those things. Blank eyes, shattered crystal. It's too easy, too real, that those things might become true enough in short time anyway. Their brands have been progressing through the stages slowly but steadily, and voicing those things would make them... too close.

"Aight." She hears Fang's bedroll rustle, but instead of turning over as she half expects, she hears Fang moving closer - slowly, but projecting her movements so Lightning can track her movement. Light exhales slowly, tracks the passage of some midnight critter though the sky as Fang moves closer and carefully nudges her with her shoulder. "Budge up, there."

Unsure of what Fang wants, Lightning shuffles to the side and allows Fang to settle next to her, warm limbs and a steady presence. They don't look at each other, but Lightning allows part of her tense muscles to relax. She swears she can hear her pulse thumping in her throat. It'd been a long time since she'd been this close to someone, save for close brushes in combat and the occasional clapped back or hands. She worries at a hole in the fabric below her.

"Mind if I check your brand?" comes Fang's soft voice in the dark.

Lightning tilts her head. "Only if I can check yours." She's not sure why she asked - they've all seen Fang's frozen brand - but the offer feels right to make, so she doesn't take it back. 

A pause. "Yeah, fair enough." Then there are gentle hands tugging at her jacket, and Lightning takes another deep breath and bares her throat so Fang can take a look. Eyes half-lidded, she watches Fang's face as she narrows her eyes. If she's perturbed by what she sees, it doesn't show, and her hands are near burning against Lightning's skin. After a long minute, she straightens and pulls back, but Light swears she can still feel the ghost of those fingers. With a shiver, she pulls the zipper of her jacket back up. "No change, looks like."

"That's something, I guess." Lightning gestures at Fang's arm. "So, let me see."

"Pushy." 

"A deal's a deal, Yun Fang."

Fang only replies with a snort, but she does turn and look away so Lightning can examine her brand. She's seen it before, of course, but she's never touched it, and the silvery skin surrounding the ink feels rough, almost jagged to the touch. Of course - and here she pulls up short, mentally - she doesn't know shit about the stages these brands go through, so instead she just looks at it in the way she might check a healing bruise or wound. 

Finally, she lets her hands drop. "Well, your arm probably won't fall off anytime soon." She still feels restless, though, so she knots her hands together as Fang turns, then asks, "Spar? Best two out of three?" After it's out of her mouth, she realizes how silly of a question it must be, with all of their friends slumbering around them, in the middle of the night...

"Sure." There's a strange mix of emotion in that one word, something mostly amused but... something else. But, as Fang fluidly pushes herself to her feet, for a split second Lightning is left looking at her back and thinking _, there's no one steadier_. And then Fang's turning, hooking that usual, half-mocking, half self-assured grin down at her. "If ya think you can keep up, that is."

It's the warrior's soul inside her, she later tells herself, that makes her grin a toothy smile back, shoving the restlessness and worry to the back of her mind and tamping it down with a mental shovel. Fang just has a knack for bringing that side of her out.

\---

When they're almost to the end of the caves, Sazh turns and looks at her as they pack up the camp. He's the quietest and most easy-going in the morning, so Light's taken to helping him get all of their supplies together and cook breakfast. She's come to value that silence just as much as she admires his dedication to keeping them all going. He's got the same bull-headed determination as the rest of them, that's for sure. 

"So, still haven't figured it out, huh?"

"Figured what out?" she replies, absentminded. Yesterday she'd challenged Fang to dive into one of the deeper pools of the Sulya springs and bring back some of the river stones at the bottom to prove she'd made it. She'd stripped out out her sari top to do so, and Lightning's been having flashbacks to the way Fang's abdomen had flexed as she stretched before diving in - in a purely aesthetic appreciation, to be sure. Vanille had started giggling suspiciously, but Lightning had written it off as her just being used to their strange games. 

Sazh snorts and scratches his forehead, letting the chocobo chick lean out of his afro and nibble his fingers. "You and Fang, that's what."

"Uh huh?" This iron pan had seen its better days. Snow'd said he'd been cleaning it properly. Proper, her ass. She loops it into one of the knapsacks, then registers more fully what Sazh had said. "Wait, what?"

He just gives her a look - one that could probably be best described as his _dad face_. Usually it was either Hope or Vanille on its receiving end, so she's a little taken aback before she raises her eyebrows. "I really don't know what you're asking me."

Sazh opens his mouth, hesitates, closes it, then clearly changes his mind with what he was about to say and instead points his finger at her. "For being on the run for our lives, I'd say this is the most relaxed we've been so far on this - journey. You agree?"

"Well. I don't know if _relaxed_ is the correct word." Hope _had_ almost gotten eaten yesterday. She hates to think of what some of the beasts ate down here to get so big. Had they been this bad in Fang and Vanille's time, or had time and the absence of civilization allowed them to get bigger?

"Um, well. Yes, you're right, but we've all been fighting each other a little - no, a _lot_ less than we had been when we first touched down."

"Isn't that to be expected?" Lightning sits back on her heels to look at him. Instead, he shakes his head, looking both frustrated and - fond.

"Girl, you're missing my point. I've never seen _you_ relaxed. I didn't think you've ever been this way. And it's always around Fang."

"Is this about our dumb game?" Lightning feels, inexplicably, a smile hooking its way up around her face. "I mean, I'm not going to argue with you that it should in no way be a priority, and no, Snow's still not allowed to join no matter how much he whines -"

"No, no," Sazh cuts across her, "It's not that you're doing - whatever that is, it's that the point of this is _because of Fang_."

"... Hm," Lightning says. She shuts up for a moment. Then she turns at levers another look at him. "I don't see what your point is, Sazh."

Finally and fully exasperated, he throws his hands in the air. "I'm just saying - and I'm saying this before one of the others do, before you take my head off over it - that you too are awfully close. Lightning -" and he hesitates, before locking eyes with her, "- What _does_ Fang mean to you?"

"I," Lightning starts, and then she stops. Looks away. Rolls the question around in her head. What does Fang mean to her? What _does_ she mean? Fang is - she's a friend. She's never felt closer to anyone in this way. A hand outstretched, a strong shoulder, a lance to cover her week spots. Someone who could pull her out of her head, someone who could make her laugh. Someone with very, _very_ nice arm muscles. Someone who could get her going like no one else. Someone who...

"...Oh." She says. 

_Hey_! They both hear the shout and turn. Fang, Vanille, and Snow had left to go poke around the springs some more, and apparently they'd been doing some fighting, considering how soaked to the skin they all were. Fang sees her looking and waves.

"Oh," she repeats, and behind her, Sazh snorts and mutters something like, _kids_.

\---

After this, she loses her mind a little. She knows this because, first and foremost, she goes _soft_. The trek to Oerba isn't the time to be _soft_. It's a good thing they all have some kind of third-tier magic up their sleeves by this point, or they'd be dead meat for sure. Yet, even with the sun crisping the back of their necks and the soles of their shoes wearing thinner, Light is in a strangely good mood. At breakfast, she let Vanille have the rest of her food. So far, she's only called Snow a twat twice, and the sun's already low in the sky. That's a sign for sure that something's up. 

She's in the middle of explaining to Hope the training program that new soldiers for the Guardian Corps go through upon first being enlisted - not that he's probably ever going to get that particular chance, given the current outlook on Cocoon's future and their own status as criminals, but it was hard to turn down his earnest, serious-eyed question - when the distinctive clumping gait of Snow's books catches up to them. They'd split into two parties, one in front clearing the way and the other following behind as both failsafe and as a chance to catch their breath through the day - and Sazh had trotted ahead several minutes earlier, muttering about giving someone else a break. Snow pauses when he sees her looking at raises his hand, grinning that stupid grin as he waits for them to reach his position. She considers flicking him off in response. She totally would, if Hope hadn't been standing there. 

He claps Hope on the back, sending the kid staggering forward a step. Predictably, he swipes back, but Snow only laughs and leans more heavily on Hope's shoulder. "Hey, came to check up on the standby crew," he says, fishing in his pocket. "And Sis, I've got a message from Fang - she said, and this is her words and not mine, 'tell Sunshine the total tally's 35 so far.'" With a satisfied grunt, he finally pulls a ration bar out of his pocket. Honestly, Light's surprised to see it; the galoot had a tendency to go through them like they were candy bars, which they decidedly tasted _nothing_ like.

"I'm not your sis, idiot." She mulls over the message, chewing on the inside of her cheek. The bet today was the standard _who can take out more critters_. They get creative sometimes, sure, but that's the old-fashioned standby. Simple. Unfettered by unnecessary rules. Given that most of the day is spent either fighting or moving, it's the easiest thing at hand. Light's only at 22 today, but she's mostly been rearguard. Obviously, she's got to step up her game. 

"Alright," she says, squinting ahead. "I'll go back to the front, give someone else a break." 

"Hey," Hope says, "You didn't finish telling me about the Corps." With his hands intent on his boomerang - something about modifying with the static part he'd wrenched off a centurion earlier - he looks strangely carefree, like a kid fiddling with the newest tech. Sometimes she has to remind herself that the kid's probably got the most powerful elemental magic of all of them. 

"That'd take all day. Next break, alright?"

"Sis," Snow interjects cheerfully. The likelihood that he wasn't paying attention at all seems likely - or he's just been bursting at the seams to ask something. In light of his status as messenger, she can guess what. Three, two - 

"So, are you gonna let us in on this contest or what?"

"No, Snow, you're not allowed to join," she says, exasperated. _There, see?_ She didn't even go for the throat like she usually would. Is she losing her edge? Seems likely.

Snow exhales, puffing his hair out of his eyes with a _whew_. "C'mon, sis, I just wanna know! It sounds like fun."

"Compete with someone else," she shoots back, unrepentant. Between them, Hope chuckles under his breath before nearly dropping his work. 

"You know what I've been thinking? Wouldn't it be a good thing for us all to have some friendly competition? Y'know, to keep morale up? That's important," he presses. His blue eyes are wide and earnest. "But instead, it's some kind of -" and here he hesitates, suddenly turning a bit red.

"Snow," she says. He shoots a look at Hope.

"Uh, well. It's kinda - what we'd all call a dick-measuring contest."

" _Snow_ ," Light hisses as Hope does another double-take. "That's what _you'd_ call it?"

"Well, what is it?" He perks up, an odd mixture of embarrassed and determined. "Fang's never so animated until you challenge her to something new, and I wanna know what started it. Don't think you woulda done this kind of thing before. Y'know."

"If you have to know, she started it," Lightning begins, before changing her mind. "It's only a silly little game. Good for morale, like you said. That's it." 

"Then..." Hope pipes up slowly. Traitor. "Why is it just between you too? Any of us could join."

She gives them both the evil eye. They just stare back, straight-faced, before the piece on Hope's hand starts fizzling, to which he throws it on the ground and they all scatter several feet, Vanille's last explosion (something about conductors and bomb shells being attached to the weights of her staff) all too fresh in their minds - but the thing just bounces and sizzles like bacon under the sun. 

Hope's standing over the piece, clearly conflicted over whether he should pick it up or not, when Lightning hisses to Snow, "So why are you bugging me? Go ask her."

He gives her a look, blue eyes uncomfortably direct. "That's what she told me, near word-for-word."

"It's just... our thing, okay? And that's all there is to it." When he looks ready to say more she fishes in her side holster and tosses a spare glove to Hope. "Here, use this to pick it up. If it starts to crackle again, toss it at this lunkhead and run."

Hope does manage to catch it, although he fumbles with it for a moment. He squints up into the sun, then looks back at her. "Light, are you getting sunburnt? Your face is pretty red."

She's halfway to reaching up when she realizes the implications of what he just said. With a _tch_ , she turns on her heel and unsheathes the gunblade, letting its solid weight distract her from saying anything more resoundingly stupid than before. "I'll see you two later."

As she storms off, she hears Snow mutter to Hope, "Give you a 100 gil if you figure out what's going on there."

"I dunno. I think I'd rather sit that one out."

_Boys._

\---

Three days before they hit Oerba, Fang challenges Lightning to a match, one-on-one, in front of the entire crew.

"C'mon," she eggs, tousling Hope's hair as she steps neatly around where Vanille's discussing how to best preserve Gorgonopsid meat. "Having a crowd keeps anyone from getting too big for their britches."

"I hate to tell you this, but I think that ship's long sailed," Light replies from where she's stretched out against a rock, watching Sazh dissemble his pistols. "Like _you_ don't grandstand every time you launch something for more than five seconds."

"When it's a behemoth I'm launching, I think a little pride is a fair thing to have," is the only response that she gets. "But c'mon. You can call it a cooldown if ya like after a long day of fighting beasties."

"Why, is your game that weak?"

"Oh, that's it. Get up, Sunshine, I'm kicking your ass here and now, rise and shine," Fang whirls around the fire like a madwoman, nearly running over Vanille, who only claps her hands and laughs as she ducks out of the way. The moment Fang's up in her face Lightning is rolling forward, jabbing her elbow into an (admirably) solid abdomen. "Come on, let's have it. Ey, you lot, who wants to officiate over declaring me the winner?"

"I'll do it!" Snow punches his fist into the air over by where he's fiddling with the packs, accidentally scattering copper wires and bone fragments in a three-foot radius in front of him. "Whoops, gimme a second - I've got it," he assures, rummaging more frantically.

"Last minute upgrades are just as likely to land you in trouble," Lightning calls out, swiping at Fang's solid attempt to grab her in a headlock. "Get off, there's no rush - unless you got something to prove," she needles, pushing back. 

"I - Oh, nevermind, here," Sazh waves to Hope and Snow, "If you wanna do this, man, let us clean up or we're gonna be waiting all night. Come on, away from the fire, that tends to put a damper on these kinds of things."

Lightning finally frees herself from Fang's hold and brushes her hands together. "Fists or blades?" The way Fang moves is a delight to watch either way, but if Fang is this keyed up, being cavalier with sharp objects might not be the way to go. 

"Ah, I don't need my spear this time." Fang puffs out her chest. If not for the glint in her eye, for anyone else Lightning would have called bullshit. The way Fang wields confidence is something almost intoxicating. Lightning hopes no one is looking too closely at her face. "C'mon, Sunshine, let's see those pretty fists."

"We'll see if you're calling them so pretty in a few minutes."

"Think it's going to take that long? Hurry up, man," she calls over her shoulder to Snow, who has shed his coat and jumped up on one of the rocky outcrops around their fire, "The Fal'cie are gonna be dust and rust by the time you start this thing, and then where are we gonna be?"

"Whiners get penalized," Vanille calls out sunnily as Snow rights himself, rising to full height. Fang only flicks her off, eyes trained on Lightning, keen and bright. 

"Aight," Snow calls, "On three. One..."

Lightning locks gazes with Fang, half-turning her body, pulling her fists fluidly up.

"Two..."

Across from her, Fang's mimicking her position. The way the tattoo flexes around her arm almost catches her gaze. Really, Lightning should take the time sometime to mentally thank whoever grafted that as well as they did. Light's never been one for tattoo art, but that might change if they ever get out of this hell focus.

"Three!"

With a wild whoop, Fang's bounding forward, crossing the space between them. Unfortunately for her, her name's not Lightning. 

_Alright, what's the first move gonna be - ? Left._

It's a tiny tell, but Fang drops her shoulder the slightest bit when she's about to throw a punch. It's not more than an inch or two, wouldn't broadcast her moves to most opponents - 

But Light's been watching for a while now. 

She ducks, hears that fist whistle over her head, and springs onto her hands, sweeping her leg out to aim at Fang's ankle. She hooks around it, and -

Fang's twisting down, aiming a sharp, fast blow at the crown of her head. Lightning surges forward and plants her elbow in Fang's abdomen, throwing her back a good several feet. Around the fire, she hears several whoops and whistles and _grins_ , sharp and bloodthirsty. 

"I'd call that a point for Light!" Snow calls out, and Fang draws herself up. Her smile has faded slightly, but from the look in her eye she's really only getting started - but Lightning doesn't plan on giving her the chance to strategize. That's _her_ territory. 

With a few sharp steps she closes the gap between them, aiming a strike at Fang's solar plexus. Fang sees it coming and blocks it, of course, Lightning would have been disappointed if that had actually connected, and she lashes out again, one-two-three, pushing Fang back another step - 

Just for Fang to push a little to far into her zone and grab her by the arm, throwing her weight and trying to toss Lightning to the ground. Light, honestly, gets lucky (although years of anti-grav training help) and manages handspring to her feet instead of splattering against the ground.

This time, Fang meets her smile. 

In her hindbrain, she can hear the whistles and cheers of the others. Hope, predictably, seems to be cheering her on; Vanille, strangely enough, seems to be alternating between both of them, and Snow's just laughing. If Sazh is saying anything, she can't tell, although he honestly might just be waiting to be damage control.

Fang circles back in, and Lightning meets her readily - and for a few short, glorious minutes, everything else fades away. There's no Fal'cie. No focus. No foreboding. Just the thrill of battle, the flash of green eyes, the balance of sparring against someone who knows her moves well enough to match them as equals. 

She may as well be weightless. 

Finally, she starts getting tired - it's been a long series of days (haven't they all been) - and Fang seems to be slowing down, judging by the sloppiness of several of her punches (although the power behind them is certainly still there). They're evenly tied in points, and Light knows that she's got to try to finish this quick if she doesn't want to lose - or catch Sazh's knowing glances on the trip tomorrow. She blocks a blow with a grunt and surges back up into Fang's face, aiming for the throat - 

\- And freezes there, just as she feels the pressure of Fang's fist at her sternum. 

They stare at each other, chests heaving. She can feel the hair against her neck, weighed down by sweat. She comes back, slowly, to her surroundings - Vanille cheering something, Snow clapping. As they step apart, Light glances at Hope, who only shoots her a thumbs-up. Whatever that means. 

"Well, Sunshine," Fang stops and raises a finger before tilting her head back with a _whew!_ "Not bad."

"Same to you," Lightning mutters back, sweeping her hair out of her eyes. They wander back to the campfire, where Fang drops completely to the ground, throwing her legs over where Light was about to sit. She can't find it in her to shove Fang aside, so Lightning just steps over her outstretched legs and slumps beside Vanille. 

"Light, that was great!" Vanille touches Lightning's shoulder, and for a pulse soothing energy flows through her limbs. Murmuring a quiet _thanks_ for the cure spell, Lightning lets herself lean back on her hands, only to jolt as Fang throws a leg over her crossed ones. "Oh, Fang..." As she reaches out to cast another cure spell, Vanille stage-whispers, "Between you and me, it's very satisfying to see someone put Fang in her place once in a while. This one's too bone-headed for most other people to handle, y'know?"

"Hey, don't be mean," Fang says from her spot in the grass. "And I'll have you know that was a _tie_. Isn't that right, fellas?"

"Looked like it to me." Sazh must be on cooking duty - although he seems to prefer it the most out of any of the rest of them - since he's setting a pot over the fire, looking it over with a critical eye. 

"We'll call it that," Lightning says, ignoring Fang's finger jabbing her ribs (and _definitely_ ignoring the look Sazh gives her over the fire - he can keep his nose _out of it._ )

\---

Oerba is both beautiful and sad, a testament to the passage of time, filled with nothing but crystal sand, memories, and Cie'th. They are all, as one, silent as they pass through the village. Lightning looks at the buildings, the roadways, and wonders when this place had turned to dust. Wonders about the people who lived here. What they did. What they said. What they dreamed. 

She tries not to look too hard at Vanille or Fang. Even so, their raw grief is strong enough that she can near taste it in the air. 

When she looks out at the beaches, studying the distant and painfully clear horizon, she thinks, _this could have been Bodhum just as easily._

They settle in one of the more complete buildings where Vanille finds Bhakti. As the others pick their sleeping spots, she and Sazh crouch over it, rifling through their bags and discussing spare parts in low tones. For her part, Lightning leaves them to it, focusing instead on Fang's back as the woman leans against the window, hands planted firmly on the sill.

There are no words, she supposes. None that she has, and none that Fang would except. But she does have one thing. 

Lightning joins Fang at the window. Even from here, she can see the twisted crystal forms trudging towards the beach in a sick mimicry of migration. Fang doesn't turn to look at her, even acknowledge her presence, but Light knows _she_ knows that she's there. 

There's a low moon overhead. Waxing moon, with the tide coming in. 

"It feels strange, being in a building with a roof after so long outdoors," Lightning says. She draws a path against the glass with her fingernail, then chides herself internally. _A question of do, not can_. "Dunno. Feels like I'd want to go see the stars in this place. Feels strange not to sleep without seeing them."

"... Hm." Fang shifts her weight onto her other leg, and in the process leans against Lightning for a heartbeat. Her skin seems to radiate heat, and Lightning finds herself on the verge of leaning back, drawn into that warmth. "Well, there is the rooftops."

"Yeah?"

"... Yeah." Fang turns her face, the moonlight illuminating the weary planes of her face. "When I was a young'un, there were some nights that I couldn't sleep down here. Too hot, too noisy, too... it varied. So I'd sneak out onto the roof to gaze up at the sky. Sometimes Vanille would come out with me. Sometimes..." And a shadow passes over her face. 

Lightning looks back outside. The beach is distantly visible from here, overlaid in shades of silver. She thinks, picturing a young, lanky Fang, worming out the window to sit in the cooling breeze from the ocean. And she thinks, too, of another young girl who would sneak out and run down to the waves, digging her feet deep into the wet sand, willing stability against the memory of pinched faces and hospitals and grief. 

Cautiously, she throws a glance behind her. Sazh and Vanille are still preoccupied with Bhakti, and Snow and Hope appear to be settling into their respective beds. Slowly, she leans in and breathes, just for Fang's ears, "You wanna go out there again?"

The bob of Fang's throat catches her eye, followed by an almost imperceptible nod. Lightning clasps Fang's shoulder and steps back, slowly making her way towards the door. Nobody asks where she's going, and it's easy enough to slip out through the hallway and out through the window in the hall. 

She makes her way to the highest point, settling in with cold cement to her back. The wind kisses her face, curling her hair over her shoulder. If she tilts her head and closes her eyes, she could be anywhere, far away from here. 

It's not three minutes later when she feels a gentle hand against her shoulder, and she shuffles aside, allowing her companion to sit beside her. 

"... It's funny," Fang says, low. "All this time, and the waves still look the same."

Lightning tilts her head. "They always do."

Silence. 

"Fang," Lightning finally says, drawing her fellow l'Cie's gaze. "I don't know if you want to talk about it. Now, or in the future. But if you ever want to. Tell me what it was like here." She swipes a hand over her shoulder, brushing against the soft fabric at her neck. "I'll listen."

She sits back on her hands, not really expecting a reply. Then, Fang chuckles. "Tell you what, Sunshine," she says, that familiar wry, rich tone. "You tell me some of yours, and I'll tell you some of mine."

Lightning had never intended on sharing any of her past to anyone, not after she discarded her old name and her old self. A new name meant remaking who she was, she had told herself, and nothing she could do could ever change what had happened. 

For the first time, however, she feels inclined to temper that promise. 

"Is that a deal?" she asks. 

"You're on, Sunshine," Fang replies. 

\---

Back to Eden they go, but this time, Lightning feels - not invincible, far from it, but more like _unstoppable -_ changed by her companions, by what they had seen, where they had went. The PSICOM soldiers they had faced before weren't strong in the face of crystal-bolstered superpowers, but now, they all seems laughably fragile. 

"Twenty-two!" calls Fang on her left, and she sees another soldier go reeling. After the ruckus on the racetrack - and man, if she hadn't seen Fang's eyes light up at that, honestly, was she a little kid or something? - Fang had bumped into her and thrown the gauntlet of another challenge - who could take down the most soldiers without using elemental magic. "Good old-fashioned blades, if you will," said Fang, "None of that 'imbuing your weapon' bullshit."

"Is this just a handicap because you suck at that kind of magic?" Lightning asked, ducking the following playful punch. 

"Twenty-three!"

Alright, alright. Fang was three soldiers ahead. But Fang only specified not using _elemental magic_ , not any other kind. She swivels around, taking quick stock of everyone's positions - there's Sazh, pinning down the snipers on the rooftops, and Hope and Vanille raining bolts of fire side-by-side. With a deep breath, she reaches for the crystal magic deep in her skin. Pictures flight. Lightning. _Speed_.

"Haste," she whispers, snapping her fingers - and there it is, that familiar sense of _stretching_ , vertigo, and then - hyper-clarity, as though time had become molten. She drops back a step, locking her eyes on the soldier directly in front of her, ducking under Snow's fist. 

There is a part of her, the part that lives on adrenaline and battle, that takes special thrill in fighting under the influence of the _haste_ spell. Her saber is a whirl of pale silver in her hands, each blow another death. She nails the man in front of Snow, whirls and catches the descending baton of another with her bare hand. The soldier barely has time to gasp or react before she cuts him down, too, and forward she darts, skidding around the corner and into a new pack, armed to the teeth with various stun guns, lasers, and AMP tech. 

They really don't stand a chance. 

As she finishes off the last man, she turns to take tabs on her crew again. Sazh, Hope, Vanille, Snow, all working together like well-oiled machinery. And there's Fang, whirling and slashing with a laugh in her teeth, reveling in the battle - and headless of the soldier hefting a heavy grenade shooter behind her. 

Lightning doesn't even think. A few bullets aren't going to put down something like that, though - 

\- With a _shunk,_ her thrown blade impales itself deep into the man's skull, and he staggers and falls. 

In the sudden lull, Lightning darts to retrieve her gunblade, already mentally sending an apology its way. The Blazefire saber is many things, but a weapon meant for that kind of attack, it is not. However, before she can make it to the corpse, Fang's there, planting a foot against his torso and pulling the sword free, weighting it in her free hand. Lightning slows, taking the last few steps at a walk as Fang quirks a brow at her. "Well, I've never seen you do _that_ before," the huntress says. "Good eye."

Lightning winces, but accepts the proffered weapon anyway. "Thanks, I think," she replies, silently grateful when the blade folds up with its usual ease. She feels the distant reverberations of another bomb in the distance and casts her eyes east. So much smoke, so much damage. Light wonders how many civilians got out. How many are still cowering in their homes, behind barricaded doors, hoping and praying for a miracle.

All of the answers that her mind conjures are depressing. 

"Not that I don't appreciate the assist," Fang's saying while Lightning's mind is elsewhere, "But I could'a handled that guy myself, you know."

"I'm sure," she says, feeling the last effects of her _haste_ spell finally ebbing from her limbs, leaving them briefly heavy for a long second. Her fingertips tingle. "But that's just another soldier on my tally."

Fang scoffs, twirling her lance idly before propping it against her shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, take all the fun, why don't ya," she needles, taking a few steps back, obviously ready to keep moving. Lightning moves with her - of course, Fang's always been the one to draw her in, moth to flame - and forcefully tears her eyes off the sky. "You'll need all the help you can get."

"And what's your count?"

The woman's eyes suddenly darken. "Twenty-five."

"Well, now I'm at twenty-seven." Lightning mock-dusts her hands together before turning, her half-cape fluttering behind her. "Keep up, Fang."

"Why, you -"

"Or did you get a _slow_ spell slapped on you when you weren't looking?" Lightning ponders out loud, clapping Hope's shoulder as she passes. Hope just snorts at her, ignoring their banter. "That would explain a lot." She casts a glance over her shoulder, entertained - 

\- And just in time to see dawning realization crossing Fang's face. "Sunshine, you damn _cheat_ -"

"Scouting," she calls to Snow and Sazh, passing them in a jog, just as she hears Fang roar behind her. 

Really, this whole thing is terrible, Barthandelus's promises, _Ragnarok,_ looming over them - really, Lightning doesn't have any right to be having any fun at all, but - perhaps that's all part of human nature too.

\---

They stand before the doors, and for once, there's no need for words. Beyond those doors, there's no turning back. 

And there's no turning back for Lightning, in more ways than one. "Hey, Fang," she says, waiting for the taller woman to look at her. "I hate to say it, but I think you won."

"Eh?" Fang tilts her head, propping her spear against her shoulder. "I thought we were pretty even on the count this time." 

"No, you got just one more than I did."

Vanille and Hope are glancing between them, as though watching a tennis match. Lightning tries to ignore them.

"Huh." Fang licks her lips, fingers drumming on her spear shaft. She looks - startled, as though for once their contest was at the back of her mind, which Lightning finds hard to believe, given that _she's_ the usual instigator. But - no. She's got purpose. She's not _losing_. 

"So," she steps up, lifting her head to meet Fang's gaze, and closes the space between them. "What do you want, this time?"

_I'm taking that leap of faith, just like you said._

There's something slow and fragile, soft and wondrous, dawning in Fang's eyes. "Um. Well. If this is it, I _can_ think of one thing, I suppose."

"Yeah?"

With deliberate care, Fang props her spear against the pale stone wall. "Yeah," she murmurs quietly, straightening slowly. "There is something."

And with that, there's a hand curling around her hip, and Lightning leans in as Fang closes the gap and kisses her.

There's a squeal behind them and some startled exclamation, but Lightning's not listening because she can't care one bit when Fang's lips feel this good on hers. In the stolen moments when she'd allowed herself to daydream, she always thought it'd be something fiercer, this first kiss between them, something as competitive as everything else between them. Something won fiercely and taken proudly. But this - this is sweet, and with the memory of their talk in Oerba in the back of her mind, so much just - _clicks_. 

When they both pull back, they stare at each other for a second. Fang's face slowly splits into a smile. It's dumb. Her face is so dumb. Lightning loves her so much it hurts. 

When they glance back at the rest of their crew, Vanille's beaming at them both, hands clasped beneath her chin. Sazh is smiling too, but he's watching Snow and Hope, who are both suspiciously red-faced and tugging at their gloves. 

"Well," Fang drawls, her hand still firm against Lightning's hip (not that she's complaining, she really isn't), "How's that? I've got better than Lady Luck on my side this time."

For a moment, all of the _pain worry fear_ had fizzled away blissfully, but as Lightning frees herself from Fang's grasp she feels nothing but determination. Whatever lies beyond this door, it's their futures that are on the line. She cocks her head at Fang, then at everyone else. "Ready?"

Everyone murmurs their ascent, but Fang's grin burns the most wickedly. "First one to take down Barthandelus wins?"

And, as always, Lightning finds her lips twitching into a grin of their own. "You're on." 

**Author's Note:**

> ... this probably should have just been about punching an adamantoise in the face
> 
> However, like always, thanks for reading :3


End file.
